


Eyes in the Night

by Oleonetta



Category: My Own Work - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Cat, Eyes, Freedom, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Pet Neglect, Story, Waiting, Wall - Freeform, Watching, completed work, corner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oleonetta/pseuds/Oleonetta
Summary: A  short, sad story from a cats perspective.I wrote this over 10 years ago. It is partially based on my own experience and memories of a child.In memory of my cats, Gizmo, Sushi, and Topsey. May they rest in piece.





	Eyes in the Night

**Eyes in the night**

The reprieve of darkness - her sanctum, enjoying solitude among the shadows of silence.  
Watching, her gaze focused in a single direction tonight.

The worlds a slumber - no longer alert to its twisted and disturbed reality; either numb and mindless, or lost in the deceit born from those weaker minded fools; the fantasies, lies and terrors.

She watches, hears, and observes; but no longer involves herself with the nonsensical, pitiful existence around her. Like routine, like eventuality, she knows that nothing lasts.

Her ice-blue eyes watch with foolish habitual dedication, just like every night before this; This is her time, yet she is waiting.

Her eyes the only ones to blink in the undisturbed serenity of the chilling night. It would descend into chaos soon, just like before.

The outside is her solitude: solitude from fearful children clutching and pulling at her for comfort, solitude from flying objects that smash from being thrown, and solitude from shrieking voices that echo its walls.

She’d escaped the house, and now she watches - observes, waiting. She is far too familiar with the secret battles that stain the home, that manifest and grow worse each night, that fill each room with despair. The mistress scared and hiding a secret that she will not share, the children shaking in the darkness of their room; but the children are not asleep now, she can see then standing on the landing, see them from her perch outside on the cold wall she has grown too familiar with.

She recognises her own hunger, her stomaching aching; food has been provided less and becoming poorer of quality; they think she dose not notice… but she has. She will hunt tonight.

The night air seems warmer than the confides of the home had become, but she could sense a change in the air, an inevitable consequence of too many demons.

Her head flickers gently as a neighbouring house suddenly comes to life. A lady, elderly and frail, just like her last mistress. It strikes up a memory; the box was awfully cold and wet, and the rain stung like ice with each drip. Then off course, the young man took her away - the others were scared around her but she maintained her posture, proud and dignified, after all … a cat must always maintain their dignity.

Her gaze returned to the home she knows so well, the frail old lady outside watching. She thinks: so it happening again, the whispers will be the same in the morning - they will assume and know not what they say. They will never see with their own eyes, and I ... I will find my own food and shelter from here on out.

She could no longer trust the humans, only herself.

She stays on the wall throughout the commotion of flashing lights - red and blue - and an awful collection of sounds that pierces her ears. The children were always so quiet, but now they scream in the night. Her mistress being pulled away from the young ones, fighting, and wailing for mercy and understanding. And her master, he always did work so hard, but now he was being pushed in some sort of cage.

She knew that there was nothing left for her here. The once peaceful street had returned once more, but a family had been torn apart.

She abandons her old friend - the safety and solitude called ‘wall’, and with one last glance to a home she had known a couple of years, she disappears into the night - her tail the last thing to be seen as she turns a corner.


End file.
